I Don’t Want to Let Go
The alarm clock rings again. For the
fourth time, I roll and slap the snooze button.
My eyes open and see its 6:00 AM. I need to go to
work. My body stiffens with disappointment. I
have to get up. “No! I don’t want to leave her. I
don’t want to let go!”
The sun rises; the sky grows brighter;
the birds begin to sing, and we slowly
rouse from sleep. I have a leg thrown over
Ginny’s. She has an arm draped over me. The
morning sun warms the room. We get hot and roll
away, but as always, we keep our hands or feet in
contact.
Without body contact, we get cold again.
We roll to each other once more. I’m against her
back - one arm under and one arm over. My leg
stretches out and over hers. The warmth once
again comforts us.
Our body heat becomes too much. I roll to
the other side. In a few minutes, she rolls and
snuggles my back. Her hand rests on my shoulder.
I instinctively reach up and hold it.
The alarm rings again. My free hand slaps
the snooze button. I roll back to her - holding
her. I smell her hair and feel her skin against
mine. I don’t want to let go.
It’s always the same: we sleep and touch.
I feel empty if I’m not touching her. I have work
to face, but I don’t want to let go. I want to
hold her forever. I hit the snooze button again
and roll back to her, as if I am drawing strength
from her – anything to get me through the day,
until I can be home and in her arms again.
We begin each day draped over each other.
I feel her love and she feels mine. I don’t want
to let go.
I never want to let go.
Michael T. Smith